Chapter Sixty-Three - Ludo Bagman

The wizard in the poncho waved his wand over the crushed soda can that had been their portkey. Harry watched it float to a metal bin near his feet, where it joined several other strange objects, among them a punctured soccer ball and an old boot.

"'Lo, Basil!" called a man who appeared to be leading the other party from London, "Been busy?"

"You have no idea," Basil said with a sigh. He must have been exhausted, because he looked right into the faces of both Harry and Sirius, and not a shred of recollection crossed his lined face. "You'll all be in the first field. See Roberts, and he'll tell you where you can pitch your tents. Get a move on, I've got two more coming through in another minute."

Sirius shifted back into his canine form. He finally caught Basil's attention, though it was only to direct a wary look at Padfoot and say, "Mind where you change back, you hear? I don't want to risk any Muggles seeing you. I have enough trouble as it is."

Sirius gave a cheerful bark to demonstrate his understanding, then they hurried off to find the Roberts that was spoken of.

The campsite manager turned out to be a Muggle. It was obvious that he had no idea what had brought so many people to his campground on this occasion. Lupin, being the only adult in their party who was not currently scratching at himself with his back paws, handled the conversation. Harry did not envy him. Mr. Roberts was a suspicious man, and he stared at the parti-coloured tents and strangely dressed passersby with open curiosity. Remus's calm demeanor and comparative normalcy helped to reassure him, and he asked few questions about the reason for their stay. He merely reminded Remus that his dog ought to be on a leash.

"Of course," Remus said with a smile. He produced a leash from his pocket that Harry was certain had not been there a second before. Padfoot's ears went flat and he whined pitifully, though he submitted to being collared, much to Harry's amusement.

"I wouldn't work an event like this for all the galleons in Gringotts," Remus commented once they were a sufficient distance away from Mr. Roberts' cottage, "That man is suspicious of us already. I'll be surprised if he doesn't require a memory charm by the end of the night. The Ministry officials must have their work cut out for them."

Harry saw his meaning as they made their way through the already crowded campsite. They passed a number of tents that bore strange accessories, such as brick chimney stacks and weather vanes. Harry marveled at the ingenuity of some of the structures, which had the appearance of small castles or houses rather than cloth and tent poles. Everywhere he looked, there were men and women dressed in strange garments. Some had attempted to dress in what they thought were Muggle clothes. Others had abandoned all pretext and were dressed in long, brightly coloured robes and pointed hats. It was no wonder Mr. Roberts had been staring.

When they finally reached the campsite designated for their use, Remus announced that they would have to pitch the tent without magic. Blaise did his best to persuade him that other wizards had clearly bent the rules, so there should be no harm in a simple charm or two done discreetly, but Remus would not be swayed. He was adamant that they would give no more trouble to the Ministry than it already had on its hands.

Sirius, perhaps bitter about the leash, was no help at all. Still in the guise of Padfoot, he wandered off to explore the rest of the camp, his nose to the ground as if following an interesting scent. Harry would have loved to join him, but he felt that it would be rude to leave Remus with all the hard work. Even with Blaise and Millie to tackle one corner a piece, it took some time before they had their patched canvas raised.

Harry stared at their handiwork, exhausted from the effort and disappointed that the simple tent did not appear as grand as some others. He didn't need turrets or working plumbing, necessarily, but he would have settled for something slightly larger. As it stood, he didn't understand how all five of them would fit in the tent.

"Well, now that we have that settled," Remus said with a sigh, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow, "How about we get our bags inside?"

He led the way, followed closely by Blaise, then Millie. She disappeared beneath the flap only to reappear a moment later. She asked if Harry was coming, but he stood goggling at her for some seconds. He imagined the small tent would already be full to bursting with only Blaise and Remus inside. He couldn't understand how Millie appeared so comfortable. Then she rolled her eyes and disappeared behind the tent flap once more, and Harry felt rather foolish for his hesitation. Obviously, the tent's interior had been expanded with magic.

He dove through the opening and was astonished to see an apartment with multiple rooms. There was even a working stove and a loo. Harry gazed at the walls, noting that although the canvas was opaque from the outside, inside there were panels he could see through, like looking through partly frosted glass.

"Isn't this cozy?" Remus said, gazing at their surroundings, "Now that that's all settled, why don't you go find your dog, Harry?"

Harry, grinning so widely it hurt his cheeks, seized on the suggestion and set out with Blaise and Millie. In theory he was hunting for Padfoot, but Harry knew Remus's real intention was to give them time to explore the camp. They saw plenty to interest them. Besides the aforementioned tents with their strange accoutrements, there were wizards and witches from all over the world. Harry heard them talking in snatches of foreign languages and stared at many strange fashion choices, unsure if these were the styles of their home countries, or merely poor attempts to mimic Muggle clothing.

They had not wandered far when Harry spotted a familiar shock of red hair sitting outside a tent that was nearly as small and shabby as their own. He recognized Ron Weasley immediately, and he was recognized in turn. It was not a pleasant encounter. Weasley had held a grudge against Harry ever since they were sorted into different houses at Hogwarts. His dislike had only grown over the years. Weasley blamed Harry for any misfortunes that occurred to him, up to and including the revelation that his rat, Scabbers, had been Peter Pettigrew in disguise all along.

It was ridiculous to blame Harry for events that were set in motion when he was only a baby, but Weasley did not see it that way. He would normally be itching to pick a fight with Harry, but he seemed unwilling to start anything today. Instead, he settled for scowling at Harry before grabbing his little sister's arm and dragging her back under cover of their tent.

Harry shrugged off the encounter. He held no grudge against Ron personally, but he had long ago given up hope of reviving a friendship with him.

"Harry, check it out," Blaise said, breaking through his recollections with a gentle nudge to his side.

Harry turned to see what had caught his friend's attention. There was a tent further down the path that was roughly the size of a circus tent, but far less colorful. It was completely black, made of silk, with a rich damask print in velvet. Snow white peacocks were tethered outside, their slender necks wreathed in collars of silver. If Draco Malfoy and his family were attending the Cup, then there was no doubt this tent belonged to them.

Harry and his friends hustled in the opposite direction without a word of consultation. They were eager to avoid their schoolmate if it was indeed his tent.

They decided to explore the camps of the Bulgarian and Irish supporters next. Harry, a staunch supporter of Viktor Krum, if not the Bulgarian team itself, wanted to see this camp first. It was easy enough to find. The Bulgarians had selected canvas in their team's color, a bright crimson, and there were posters of Krum everywhere. The trio enjoyed their walkabout, catching snatches of cheerful conversation in words Harry could not understand, all the while staring at the moving pictures of Krum.

"Not the most cheery looking bloke, is he?" Blaise asked, grinning up at one of these posters while Krum stared back down his rather large, beaklike nose.

"I wouldn't care if he was as ugly as a troll," Harry said, "He doesn't have to be good looking to fly."

"You sound like you're in love," Millie said, teasingly.

Blaise shook his head in mock sympathy, "Really, Harry. I knew your standards were low, but you can do better."

Harry endured the teasing as they made their way toward the green tents of the Irish camp, where they found Sirius. He was happily eating scraps thrown to him by a couple of boys Harry recognized from his Potions class. He had never spoken to Seamus Finnigan before, and he couldn't even recall the name of his friend, but it was clear from the looks on their faces that Harry's reputation preceded him. Harry had often seen Finnigan in the company of Ron Weasley, which he was sure did not help matters. No doubt he shared some of Weasley's prejudices against him. Finnigan exchanged a glance with his friend, as if neither of them knew how to react to the trio of Slytherins approaching them.

"Alright, Finnigan?" Harry said, feeling that it wouldn't hurt to extend a friendly greeting.

Finnigan glanced again at his friend who was now smiling at Harry and seemed to give just the slightest nod. Then Finnigan shrugged, and responded casually, "This your dog, Potter?"

"Not exactly," Harry replied. Directed a cheeky grin at Sirius and added, "Remus is looking for you."

Sirius transformed back into his human form immediately. In response, Finnigan fell off the low stool he had been sitting on. His friend, another regular of Weasley's crew, let out a nervous laugh at the sight of the man before him.

Sirius smiled at Harry, clearly proud of his performance.

"So much for keeping a low profile," Harry muttered to him.

"Thanks for the food!" Sirius said with a wave of his hand.

Finnigan and his friend were too busy staring wide-eyed to speak. Sirius didn't seem to mind, as he turned without another word and began making his way back to their campsite. Harry paused just long enough to apologize for his godfather's behavior, though he was more amused than embarrassed.

They returned to camp, surprised to find Remus sitting outside with two visitors. He looked very relieved to see them return, and Harry did not wonder why when he noticed that one of the guests was Mrs. Zabini.

Blaise ran to greet his mother, who welcomed him with open arms. Harry observed the second visitor, a tall and rather heavyset man wearing bright yellow quidditch robes. He assumed that this was Ludovic Bagman, the man Blaise had described as Mrs. Zabini's latest suitor. Blaise had told him that in addition to being a Ministry official, he was also a former Beater for the English National Team. It was evidently a position he held several years ago. His old Wimbourne Wasp uniform was now a bit tight around the middle.

"Harry Potter!" he said in a booming voice. It unfortunately drew looks from some of the neighboring witches and wizards. "I was beginning to wonder if I would get to meet you, my boy! Out exploring the camp, are you?"

"Yes," said Harry awkwardly. Bagman seemed good-natured, but Harry never knew how to respond when people recognized him before they had been properly introduced.

"Good, good!" said Bagman, "Plenty to see, I'm sure. Edana and I were taking in the site just now. How lucky that we were able to drop in!"

"Ludo," Mrs. Zabini said gently, "It's getting late, the match will be starting soon."
This was enough to remind Bagman about the true purpose of the visit. He turned away from Harry to speak to Sirius.

"I came to urge my suit to you," he said with the same cordial familiarity. "I have access to the top box, you see. It would be my honor and pleasure if you and the others would join us for the match."

"A spot in the top box!" Blaise said, delighted, "Mum, can I?"

Mrs. Zabini arched a perfectly formed eyebrow and replied, "I have no objection, but you will have to ask your host, won't you?"

Harry was already anxiously looking toward Sirius to know his answer, but Sirius was in turn looking to Remus. It seemed Sirius had no disinclination to the idea, but Remus would be the final say. Of course, with so many expectant faces staring at him with hope in every feature, how could he say no? Remus graciously accepted the invitation.

Bagman, pleased at his success, turned back to Harry and asked to be introduced to Millie. Blaise he already knew, and there was no doubt in Harry's mind that although Bagman had directed his attention to him, it was only to gratify Mrs. Zabini that the invitation had been extended. Had only merely been Blaise's friend and not The Boy Who Lived, he was sure they would still have been asked to the top box.

After Harry had introduced Millie and informed Bagman that they were all Slytherin students, Bagman nodded his head and began to reminisce about his old school days.

"I was Beater for Gryffindor back when I was in school. Made captain in only my fourth year. They always said I would play professionally one day, and I guess they were right about that! Do any of you play?"

Before Harry could open his mouth to reply that yes, he played Seeker for the Slytherin team, Bagman was already continuing with his next thought, "Still the old house rivalries? I remember the first match against Slytherin was always exciting. Some things never change, but I expect there will be a few changes this year, eh Edana?"

Mrs. Zabini playfully suggested that he keep it a secret, saying, "We wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

From the smile on Remus's face, Harry knew they had mentioned something to him during their absence. Sirius gave voice to the curiosity they were all feeling as he asked, "What did I miss? What's happening at Hogwarts this year?"

"I'll tell you later," Remus said, his tone implying that he would wait until Harry and his friends weren't around to hear.

Harry was curious, but his excitement for the World Cup to begin was greater. Bagman abruptly changed the subject once more, asking Sirius and Remus whether they would be interested in a little wager on the outcome of the match.

Sirius's eyes sparkled at the idea, but he directed them to Remus before committing himself. Remus cautioned him against it, and Sirius, with a resigned smile, declined Bagman's offer.

"That's a shame," Bagman said, clearly disappointed, but still buoyant from his expectation of the upcoming match. "Well, I'll see you all in the top box, at any rate. Must run now, there's still so much to do!"

Harry suspected that he would be doing much less work, and far more fraternizing with other wizards.

Mrs. Zabini did not join him. Instead, she stayed with them until the start of the match. Blaise was happy to show her the interior of their tent. She seemed almost disappointed that the setup was quite nice. Harry did not like to think ill of Mrs. Zabini, but she seemed to hope that her son would regret not staying with her in whatever expensive, glamorous tent she had brought for her own stay.

Then the crowd began moving toward the stadium and Remus put out their campfire. Harry noticed that Bagman had still not returned, but Mrs. Zabini did not appear at all surprised by this. She attended the others toward the light and noise of the Quidditch pitch. It was time for the match to begin.